“If you’re alive, then it means that you’re committed to survive That’s enough to drain the life from you sometimes.”-P!ink

Turbulence. This is how I explained the latest news to Evan. I walked into his room and he knew. He’s been riding this plane with us long enough and we’ve always been honest with him. He looked up at me and said, “Geez, what now mom?” And that’s when I had to tell our son that we’ve hit a patch of turbulence.

Turbulence is defined by Webster as the quality or state of being turbulent: such as; great commotion or agitation ; irregular atmospheric motion especially when characterized by up-and-down currents; departure in a fluid from a smooth flow.

Turbulent waters, a turbulence of emotions, we’ve hit a patch of turbulence….all things we’ve all experiences to some degree. With turbulence comes fear, anxiety, a pit in your stomach. It’s something we all dread when we take off in a plane and something we will hit when taking a ferry to the island. There is never a good feeling of turbulence…at least in my opinion.

We’ve hit a patch of turbulence. Things are probably going to get rocky. The cancer (thinking of naming it vs saying “the cancer”) has spread to my lymph nodes. We will know options over the next week but they are limited due to my heart issues at the moment. We are hoping for a heart miracle so I can get back on chemo. Next week we meet with specialists to discuss trials. Lots of balls in the air. Lots of turbulence.

Here’s the thing about turbulence….its short lived. It won’t last forever. The anxiety floats away with the clouds and the fear is forgotten. Soon life goes back to a fluid and smooth flow. And I am living for those days again. I am living through the fear and panic, the turbulence because in one hand I hold the love of my life’s calloused hand and in the other I hold the smooth hand of the strongest little boy I know. With them by my side, the turbulence isn’t so scary.